Lilies and Roses
by sheshe330
Summary: What happens when Lily spills Rose's biggest secret?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!

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><p>Lily Luna Potter.<p>

Sometimes, I want to kill her.

This evening, I was innocently minding my own business when she _ruined my life_.

So yeah, I guess you could say that now is one of those times.

"Rosey-posey," my best friend, Emma, calls as she walks up the stone steps to our dormitory (where, yes, I'll admit I'm hiding).

"Go away," I grumble from under my covers and pillow.

She laughs and pulls my quilt off my bed, exposing my extremely red face. I saw it in the leaded windows on my way (escape) up here, and I silently cursed my father for giving me his blushing genes.

"What's wrong, pumpkin?" she asks, sitting on the end of my bed.

I look around the dormitory to make sure it's empty before announcing, "Lily Potter has ruined my life."

"Oh, Rose," Emma says sadly, "I think it's time that you stop being so melodramatic. What has she done, branded you with the Dark Mark?"

I sigh. "Worse."

She's obviously trying to hold in a laugh. "It's not funny!" I protest, crossing my arms across my chest and pouting.

"Well, what is it, then? I've been in the library with Harold…er—studying," she says, avoiding my glance. I roll my eyes. Emma and Harold are probably the most _active_ couple in our year. But nobody really cares that much except them.

"Riiight," I reply snarkily. "And don't worry yourself too much—my darling cousin just told all of Gryffindor that I am currently in love with Scorpius Malfoy."

Emma gasps and pales. "She didn't! Why? And who heard?"

I sigh and say, "Oh, just about all of my relatives in Gryffindor, who have by now undoubtedly told all of their siblings in other Houses, who have by now undoubtedly a) announced it to _all_ of Hogwarts, and b) my parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and other random hangers-on."

"But why?" Emma can't seem to grasp the fact that Lily and I are not always exactly the best of friends…especially since I may have accidentally stolen Greg McLaggen from her last year.

"I wouldn't help her with her Potions homework," I say quietly, feeling a little ashamed. I mean, Lily _is_ my cousin. It wasn't my fault that sometimes she could be a bitch.

Emma shook her head. "Rose, you _know_ how high-strung she is."

"Well, it didn't help that she blew up at me for being 'a selfish bookworm who only looks to benefit herself and would never stoop to help someone in _real_ need'! It's not like she even _tries_ to do her homework! No, _everyone_ thinks that they can just take advantage of sweet little Rose, who probably should've been in Ravenclaw but by some slip of the Hat landed herself in Gryffindor," I vent, getting a little angry again.

"_I_ don't take advantage of you," Emma says loyally. "And I think that it would've been a shame if the Hat put you in Ravenclaw instead."

"It wouldn't have been too bad if Lily had ended up in Slytherin," I mumble into my pillow.

Emma laughs. "Can you imagine what kind of trouble she would've been up to by now? She's better off with good influences like me and you."

I shrug, not willing to agree just yet.

"So…does Scorpius know yet?" she asks hesitantly.

"Probably," I say glumly. "Can I just cry myself to sleep now?"

Emma nods and silently leaves the dormitory to give me some privacy.

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><p>But I <em>can't<em> sleep. All night, I toss and turn and wonder if he _knows_. And who told him. What he thought. _Does he think I'm a freak? A stalker? A loser? What if he hates me now?_ Scorp had been one of my friends before this. _Are we still friends? Dear Lord, what if he pretends it never happened? How embarrassing!_

It takes all the Gryffindor courage inside me to walk down the seven floors to the Great Hall the next morning, knowing that I'll face everyone talking about me, knowing one of my deepest secrets. I pass Albus at the Ravenclaw table, but there's no sign of Scorpius yet. Even though I would give anything to turn my back on the situation, I know I _have_ to face the Ravenclaws so that I can see what happens.

Emma tries to distract me with a story about burning the roof of her mouth on a particularly hot strip of bacon when she was seven, but I can't focus on her when _he_ walks into the room. I swear that everyone stops talking for about five seconds as he puts his bag down under the bench and sits opposite from Al, facing me.

"Hello? Earth to Rose!" Emma says impatiently, waving a quill in my face.

"Wha—? Oh, sorry, Em," I reply absently, mistaking a kipper for a sausage. Ew.

Nobody is looking at me anymore, so I hope that they've all been miraculously Obliviated (or that they just don't care). What hurts is that Scorpius doesn't even look at me. I thought he might at least _try _to catch my eye.

Emma heads off to Care of Magical Creatures, leaving me to deal with Ancient Runes and Arithmancy all by myself. It doesn't help that we're with the Ravenclaws for both those classes.

I know I shouldn't, as I'm a prefect and wouldn't mind becoming Head Girl, but I quickly swallow a Nosebleed Nougat from Uncle George's shop five minutes into Ancient Runes and beg Professor Junca to let me go to the Infirmary. Scorpius shoots me a concerned look as I heave my heavy schoolbag onto my shoulder and leave the classroom, and I silently hope that he'll follow me to make sure I'm okay.

He doesn't though, and I quickly heal my condition in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, then prepare to spend a long two hours there by myself—or so I thought.

"Running away from class, are we?" Myrtle asks, swooping from an S-bend with a splash.

"N-not exactly," I reply, folding the wrapper into my planner and shoving it into my bag.

"Oh?" she says, posing on the porcelain sink in front of me. I see my reflection through her transparent form and see that my face is as pale as the marble tiles on the floor.

_At least it's not red anymore_, I think with a grimace.

"Don't make faces at me!" Myrtle says, pouting and starting to swoop around the bathroom again.

"I'm not, I'm making them at myself," I reply, hoping she'll stop making a ruckus before a teacher comes in. Or worse, Peeves.

"Why?" she asks, suddenly caring again. I feel as though she enjoys watching others in emotional distress.

"My stupid cousin let a huge secret out about me, and now everyone knows, including the one that it concerned," I say vaguely. I don't need _Moaning Myrtle_ spreading my gossip now, too.

"That's it?" she asks, looking a little crestfallen. "That's not anything that _interesting_."

"Well, sorry to disappoint you," I say coldly, gathering my things. "I think I'll return to class now, if you don't mind."

She tut-tuts and dives into one of the toilets with a great splash, probably to go swimming with the Giant Squid.

I reenter the classroom and tell Professor Junca, "Madam Pomfrey cleared it up in no time," with a bright smile on my face.

It's only about five minutes into resuming note-taking when Al shoves a scrap of parchment across the table.

_Why did you leave before? I know Nosebleed Nougat when I see it._

**_Albus Potter!_ **I reply. **_I'm trying to take notes, if you don't mind!_**

_I know what this is about. At least, I think. Meet me behind the witch-burning tapestry after class._

I sigh. Al is probably my best _guy_ friend (and my best friend from my family), and even though he's not a girl and doesn't always get girl-drama, he knows when something's going on. Too bad what's going on is that I've been secretly in love with his best friend since last June.

It was a warm, balmy day, and I was studying with Al and Scorp out by the lake. Our Transfiguration final was the last one of the week, and it was the only one we still had to go. Everyone else was already celebrating the end of term with raucous parties in the various common rooms, swims in the lake, pickup Quidditch matches, and dangerous rounds of Exploding Snap. Being my best friend, Emma saw fit to make out with Harold in an abandoned broom cupboard.

I was just studying about the differences between Animagi and humans transfigured into animals when _It _happened.

"You have a leaf in your hair," Scorpius said, reaching over to take it out without permission. His fingers grazed my forehead as he pulled it out, and he smoothed my hair afterwards with this little smile on his face.

My heart instantly started beating overtime, and every cell in my body was on alert. I wondered if I was possibly having a heart attack. I couldn't help but notice how muscular his forearms were and how nice they looked when they were so tanned from spending time in the sun. I liked the ripples they made when he turned a page in his textbook. I liked the way he was lounging against the tree trunk, with his long legs crossed at the ankles. I liked the way he took a humongous bite of his apple, and the way his jaw moved when he chewed it. I liked the way the wind tousled his white-blond hair. I suddenly was caught up with wondering how it felt and what it smelled like.

Neither Albus nor Scorpius noticed the change in me. I eventually had to leave to study in the library because I was so distracted. I mean, before that fateful moment, I had no idea that my cousin's best friend could be so _sexy_.

And before the fateful moment _yesterday_, no one else, besides Lily, Victoire, Dominique, Molly, Lucy, Roxanne (playing Truth or Dare at three in the morning on New Years when everyone is smashed just enough to forget what are secrets and what aren't, but not to forget what everyone did or said, especially among Weasleys, is a mistake that is _not_ worth making), and Emma (who I can't help but tell _everything_) knew, either.

As I plod along towards the tapestry decorated with flames and pools of blood, I compare my life to one of the witches who were burned at the stake for being themselves. _I never _asked _to want my best friend and cousin's best friend. Who would ask for this? It's not my fault that Scorpius Malfoy is just a bundle of sexy!_

"Rose," Al whispers from behind the tapestry. I didn't realize that I was staring at it while imagining spending time in a broom cupboard with a certain Malfoy.

I slip into the hidden alcove, where I've found plenty of broom-cupboard couples before when doing prefect rounds.

"I know," he says in a low voice. It's actually kind of creepy.

"Er—yeah," I say, scratching at my collar. Why do they make these blasted uniforms so hot and itchy?

"I had to tell him, Rosie," he continues sadly.

"Er—yeah," I repeat, not sure what to say. They should make guides for when your cousin is confronting you about fancying his best friend in a hidden alcove behind a violently-decorated tapestry, because I have no idea what to say.

Al sighs. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, what was I _supposed_ to say?" I retort. "It's not as if you would've been fine with it. 'Right, Rosie, that's just peachy, I wonder if my friend's up for a snog with my cousin. I'll go ask him. Cheers!'"

Albus looks shocked. "_WHAT?_"

I swallow. Oops.

"Er—I guess that's not what you meant," I squeak, watching my cousin's face grow an acute shade of plum.

"WHAT DID _YOU_ MEAN?"

"Er—you first," I suggest, still verging on a squeak.

"ROSE—WEASLEY!"

"Er—yes?"

Al looks like he's just seen the Grim. Or maybe the Grim with Voldemort riding on his back, carrying a sign that says, 'Spawn of Harry Potter, You Will Be Killed,' with a wand pointed straight at his chest.

I feel a little bad for the poor boy. He obviously wasn't expecting this. "Maybe you should sit down, or something," I say, offering him my arm. He nods stiffly and slides down the stone wall, landing with a _thump_ at the bottom.

"I was talking about Uncle George," he says weakly, "and how I had to owl him about you—perfect Rosie!—using one of his products to skive off lessons. But no! You had to drop a—a—what's that Muggle term?"

"A bomb?" I say helpfully. I'm surprised he hasn't listened to Grandpa Weasley a little bit better.

"A bomb!" he says, looking distraught. "I had no _idea_! This is just _horrible_! Can you imagine? What if I told you I shagged Emma?"

"Now, Al, that's completely different. First of all, Emma has Harold, and according to her, he's just fine at it. Secondly, I haven't _done_ anything. I'm a little insulted that you've implied that I have no self-control."

Al shudders. "No, you haven't done anything, but you've _thought_ about it, and that's worse."

I contemplate this. "Are you trying to tell me that you secretly fantasize about Emma? Because I'm sure she'd be honored to know."

"No!" he almost yells. "I mean, no. Don't be ridiculous."

"You do!" I say triumphantly. "I can see it in your eyes! You can't look at me! Look me in the eye and tell me that you think that Emma is ugly and that you would never under any circumstances want to take advantage of her."

He can't. He won't do it.

"This isn't about me!" he nearly shouts, flustered. "It's about you! I should've known when Lily was telling me something last night, but I was so focused on that blasted Ancient Runes translation—"

"So you didn't know?" I ask, hope dawning on me like the break of a new day. I can almost hear the birds singing. My little sparrow wings are just about to take flight when he says,

"No, but I think Scorp does."

The little sparrow within me ran into a clear window and fell to the ground with an ungraceful _thump_.

"What do you mean, 'I think Scorp does'? You just said you had no idea!"

Al rubs his eyes with his hands. "Lily was telling him something last night, and he looked _extremely _interested. And he kept asking me these weird questions until about one in the morning."

"Like what?" Suddenly, I'm dying to know.

Al is just about to tell me when the bell rings, signaling that break is over.

"Like what?" I repeat, not letting him leave.

"I don't know, weird stuff," he says, trying to plow through me to get to Arithmancy.

"Tell me!" I beg, taking off after him.


	2. Chapter 2

I decided to add another chapter, but warning: this is a short story and there's probably only one or two left. Thanks for reading! :)

I don't own Harry Potter!

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><p>He can't ignore me forever.<p>

Why is it that I find it so easy to hate the Potter siblings?

Albus is currently scribbling notes that he took last weekend in preparation for today's class.

I've thrown about a dozen notes at him, but he's been Vanishing them all.

What's worse is that now I _know_ that Scorpius knows. And he keeps staring at me. The more he stares, the more flustered I become, and the more notes I hurl at Al, which leads back to him staring at me like I'm a monkey at the zoo. It's a deadly cycle, let me tell you.

Finally, class is over, and Al sprints out down the corridor and out of sight before I could even mention the word Scorpius.

Unfortunately, the one who bears that name is more than happy to accompany me to lunch.

"How has your day been, Rose?" he asks, seeming a little more courteous than usual.

_Dear Lord_, I think to myself, _he knows, but he doesn't know how to say that he thinks we're better off just friends. Actually, maybe we're better off __not__ friends, because he thinks it's really weird that I've fancied him for almost a year. This is his way of being polite, kind of like taking a girl on a really nice date right before he breaks up with her for being too clingy. Why does he have to be so nice?_

I don't seem to have enough Gryffindor courage in me to voice these thoughts to him, so I say instead, "Just fine, Scorp, thanks for asking."

He seems to be about to say something _important_ when suddenly, stupid James Potter is standing at the top of the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall, yelling, "Rose! Get out of the way!"

Apparently, I'm not the only one who is a frequent customer of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, because a full pack of Filibuster Fireworks are exploding throughout the cavernous Hall, out the oak doors and to the grounds, and among the lunch-goers into the Great Hall, where screams and chairs scraping against the floor produce a deafening din.

"Excellent," Wesley Abbott says, grinning and shaking hands with James. I roll my eyes and head into the fray to find some shepherd's pie.

It's really starting to appear that all of the Potters want to get on my bad side today.

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><p>After lunch, I have one free afternoon. This schedule is undoubtedly the best one of the week, because I have more than half of the day to work on homework. Today, though, it means that I can hide in the common room until dinner and avoid certain Ravenclaws with ease.<p>

It also means, though, that I have to endure one Lily Luna Potter giggling with Molly Weasley (who I thought was supposed to be on _my_ side) for an entire _hour_.

I'm innocently trying to do my Potions homework (oh, the irony) in a secluded corner, but they won't _shut up_. They're sitting in the most social section of the common room, right by the portrait hole, and Lily can't stop giggling about how she's the only girl with real _guts_ in the family and that no one else can really take _control_ of their men like she can.

"It's so true, though," Molly says wistfully. "I mean, Colin would never have known my true feelings if you hadn't _hinted_ at them at the Quidditch match."

Lily smiles smugly. "I mean, I guess Victoire knows what she's doing. With _Teddy_ and all. But she's _French_. And she's a _veela_. I mean, she has nothing to _lose_."

I want to punch the italics out of her mouth. She's acting as if I owe her a favor, now that she's announced my secret to the entire Gryffindor House!

I'm just about finished when Molly calls over, "Hey, Rose, why don't you come join us?"

Dear Molly. She doesn't have a malevolent bone in her body. She's probably just looking for a good, cousinly chat.

"Yes, Rose, _do_ join us," Lily oozes. My face is burning, and I wish that those second-years in the corner would liven up their game of Exploding Snap so that nobody else has to hear this.

I reluctantly finish my sentence, cast a drying spell on my essay, and roll it up neatly before gingerly joining them. I try to sit on the edge of a leather armchair, but it's one of those slippery traps that _makes_ you curl up in a ball and rest your head on the arm.

I try to right myself as Molly grins at me and Lily says, "Haven't I helped _you_ out recently, Rosie?"

I grimace at her use of my nickname. It's okay when people say it endearingly, but when it's used against me, I hate it.

"Not that I can remember," I say bitterly.

"I seem to recall making _public_ your true feelings for a certain Ravenclaw," Lily continues.

"That wasn't exactly help, Lils," I reply, using her nickname for good measure.

"No, I suppose not…it would probably only help if there was some _reciprocation_, like there was with Colin…" Lily says, smiling sweetly.

I don't say anything. Molly looks confused, like the conversation took a bad turn. I kind of want to shake her and wake her up to how cruel our very own cousin can be.

But I don't. Instead, I try my hardest to rise from the slippery chair of humiliation, collect my belongings, and relocate to the library. Maybe I'll get some privacy there.


	3. Chapter 3

Last chapter! :D

I don't own Harry Potter!

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><p>But I don't. Why would I be able to find some peace and quiet in the library? After all, this is the Day from Hell.<p>

Instead, none other but Scorpius Malfoy is sitting in my very favorite chair by the windows which overlook the mountains. He grins cockily at me as I approach, fully ready to tell him off.

What's unfair is that by now he_ knows_ that that particular grin catches me off guard every time. I'm standing there in a daze, argument forgotten, and he takes the opportunity to say,

"I was hoping you'd come looking for me."

Oh, he's good.

"I wasn't looking for _you_," I replied shortly, taking the second-favorite chair with the slightly obstructed view. A random part of the castle juts right in front of one of the purpley-grey peaks.

He laughs. "A bloke can dream, can't he?"

I stop. Is Scorpius Malfoy _flirting_ with me?

"I suppose…" I trail off, pretending not to have noticed. This conversation is leaving me on edge, and I'm being just as distracted as I was that June day.

The April sunlight is filtering through the glass and illuminating him, his perfection, for the whole world to see. His strong hands turning the pages of his History of Magic textbook, his grey eyes actively scanning the inky paragraphs, his broad shoulders stretching his white shirt…

I realize I'm staring milliseconds before he looks up from his book. Luckily, I'm that good an actress to pretend that I've been focused on Potions this entire time.

But now, I'm acutely aware of the fact that Scorpius Malfoy is staring at _me_. My heart is thumping like I've just run a marathon. My fingers are shaking as I trace the words on the page. My mind is racing and I can't bring myself to really _care_ about the ninth use for dragon blood.

Why would he stare at me? What does he want? Should I ask him? Should I mention his staring? Should I casually look up so he'll stop? What if I accidentally meet his eye? What if he thinks I think he's a creep? What if he actually _likes_ me? What will I do? Will someone kill him? Will Dad kill _me_? Why am I thinking this? _Why is he still staring?_

I rustle the page, and he seems to fall out of his staring stupor and return to his studies. I breathe an almost-audible sigh of relief as my heart starts to return to its natural pulse.

We spend an entire hour like this—or, at least, _I _spend an hour pretending to study while actually stealing glances at Scorpius whenever I can't help myself—when the dinner bell rings.

"Is that an interesting book?" he asks as we make our way down to the Great Hall.

"Er—yes," I reply, tucking it into my bag.

"You seemed bored," he notes.

"I couldn't concentrate," I say. It _is_ the truth.

"Really? Neither could I," he replies.

He looks like he's about to say that _important _thing when Emma comes running over to drag me to the Gryffindor table. "Er, sorry," I say helplessly, waving as she nearly tackles me into my seat.

"_What_?" I ask brusquely, reluctantly turning my back on the Ravenclaws.

She is nodding at me and grinning her face off.

"Are you pregnant?" I ask, pouring myself some pumpkin juice.

"What? God, no! Where did you get _that_?"

She looks affronted as she butters her roll.

"What was I supposed to think? You were nodding and grinning like an idiot!"

"_Scorpius_," she whispers across the table, winking and nodding and grinning all over again.

"_No_," I whisper back, hoping that James and Wesley, who are congratulating themselves on not getting caught (or Professor Longbottom pretending not to have noticed) for their firework display at lunchtime. "Possibly thanks to you."

"Me?" she says, wrinkling her brow. "Why me?"

"You _interrupted_ us," I say, trying to keep my voice low. It's a miracle that nobody's heard anything yet.

"Oh," she replies, her mouth actually forming an O. "Sorry."

I shrug. It's not like it's _that_ important. Oh wait.

I can't seem to stomach any food, so I leave early to actually finish my Potions homework. This has been dragged out long enough.

I'm sitting in the corner of the common room, enjoying the quietude that one can only find during mealtimes (Gryffindors like to eat), and I'm just writing the last word of the last sentence when the portrait creaks open.

"Rose? Rose Weasley!" someone whisper-shouts into the common room.

I cautiously approach the entrance.

"Al? What are you doing here? Who gave you the password?"

"Emma," he admits sheepishly.

"Ahh, I see," I say knowingly. "Did you ask her for any—er—_other _favors?"

"No! Shut up!" he says, taking my response as an invitation.

"You're not a Gryffindor," I tell him as he takes a seat before the fire.

"I know," he says, rolling his eyes.

"Why are you here?"

"I thought _you_ were chasing _me_ down," he says wearily. "I thought I would make it easy for you."

"How considerate," I say sarcastically.

"Don't push it," he warns.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"_You're_ the Ravenclaw," I remind him.

"You want to know what Scorp said last night."

"Er, _yes_!" I reply, looking at my cousin and wondering why everyone thinks _he_'s the smart one.

"I can't tell you."

This is not what I expected to hear.

"Albus," I say in a warning tone. I'm tempted to blackmail him with the Emma thing, except I know how tender of a situation this is.

Instead, I threaten him.

"Tell me _now_ or I'll hex you into next week."

"You know, Rose, you're very smart, but you're not exactly the _scariest_ Weasley."

I draw my wand and point it at his chest. "How about now?"

He swallows. "Er…right."

I smirk confidently. I knew it would do the trick.

"So…how about it," I prod.

But no, of _course_, just when I'm about to get some _real _information, the portrait hole swings open and James, Lily, and Molly come trooping in, their eyes fixed on me.

Uh oh.

"Rose Weasley," James says slowly, letting my surname roll off his tongue.

"Er—yes?"

"What is this I've so recently heard about you and a certain…_Malfoy_?"

"Er—nothing?"

I look to Al for support, but he's almost as pale as Scorpius's hair at the moment.

I mentally slap myself. _Wrong time to think about him!_

Lily looks like she's enjoying herself. Molly looks like she's not sure where this is going, but it's not what she'd planned on when she signed herself up.

James considers this for a moment.

"I think it's common courtesy to tell your older cousin when you're entering into a relationship."

The temper that both my parents so lovingly bestowed upon me is starting to flare up.

"For your information, James Potter, I'm not entering into _anything_. And anyway, it's none of your business."

He smiles.

"There's the Rosie I've been looking for. You didn't _really_ think I'd actually _care_, did you?"

All of a sudden, it's like trumpets are being played from the mountaintops, basking the whole world below in golden notes of celebration. Lily's smile has faltered, and she pretends not to be interested anymore. Molly, meanwhile, giggles and gives me a bear hug.

"We've all seen it coming, Rosie, and I'm so happy for you."

"Er—thanks, Moll. Except nothing's happened. And nothing's _going_ to happen."

She looks crestfallen. "Oh."

I pat her on the back. "It's okay. I think I need to go get something from the library. I'll see you later, okay?"

She nods. I'm halfway down the corridor when Al catches up to me.

"That was scary for a little while, huh?"

"I suppose," I say evenly.

"Oh, come on. It was! I was afraid for myself!"

"It wasn't _really_. It wasn't like it was _real_."

Al looks dubious. I notice that his face is still pale.

"Are you all right?" I ask, a touch concerned. I mean, my cousin needn't be more worried than I am about my love life.

"Er…got to go," he says quickly, dashing off in another direction.

It's Emma. What a wuss.

"Hey, Em," I say cheerily. "Hi, Harold."

"Er, hi, Rose," he says, looking uncomfortable. Harold always looks uncomfortable unless he's snogging Emma in a hidden place.

I ignore him and tell her, "I'm on my way to the library. I'll see you later."

She nods and leads Harold into an empty Charms classroom, shutting the door behind them with a giggle. Sometimes, they really do make me want to gag.

The after-dinner rush meets me as I'm walking the final leg to the library, and I follow a group of fourth-year Hufflepuffs past the Muggle literature section and towards the Charms texts.

"Ah, here it is," I say to myself, hugging my planner to my chest as I retrieve it from where I left it earlier. It was partially hiding under the chair, my Nougat wrapper sticking out of the side.

"Miss Weasley."

I turn, insides freezing like icicles, horrified that a teacher has found me with a Skiving Snackbox wrapper.

Instead, it's Scorpius Malfoy. My insides are suddenly burning with fire hotter than dragons'.

"You scared me!" I accused, snatching it back and tucking it back into my planner.

He's laughing like an idiot.

"Shut _up_, it wasn't _that_ funny," I say, getting a little miffed.

"Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, if you can't manage to respect library rules, you will have to leave."

My face turns bright red and my mouth snaps shut, but Scorpius rolls his eyes and pulls me by my arm. "I need to tell you something, anyway," he whispers as we stroll out.

His breath on my skin, together with his touch, is igniting little sparks throughout my being. What does 'I need to tell you something, anyway' mean?

He leads me down a deserted hallway and stops me by a window.

"Rose, I've been trying to tell you all day. I know what Lily said yesterday."

His voice is so sincere. I nod slowly, wishing I could tear my gaze away from his eyes. I wonder how red my face is. I can feel it blotching on my forehead, right where his fingers brushed my skin last June.

"Er…I don't know how to say this."

I'm not willing to help him out on this one. I've already suffered enough embarrassment.

"I know I've been acting weird all day. Actually, I have been for a while."

He pauses again. The silence is killing me.

"I wish she would have told me a year ago. Almost exactly a year ago. Because that's when I started…er…"

Remember that little sparrow I was talking about earlier? The one that was fluttering at the thought of Scorpius's ignorance? It has revived itself, except it is a phoenix, glorious and beautiful, soaring with the wind among the mountains. For once, I don't doubt the Sorting Hat's decision. Pure bravery is coursing through my veins as I finally decide to end his misery.

I kiss him, and I swear I see a few rogue fireworks exploding in the night air outside the window.

Lily Luna Potter.

Sometimes, I am bursting with love for my darling little cousin.


End file.
